


a touch so foreign

by cosmicwoosan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Double Penetration sorta, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Homelessness, Hybrids, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Science Experiments, Slime, Smut, Some Fluff, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, a cheesy ending at that lol, minor come inflation, other members are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwoosan/pseuds/cosmicwoosan
Summary: It’s about to rain when a disheveled yet handsome young man with an eyepatch appears on Wooyoung’s doorstep begging for shelter, and while Wooyoung knows letting a stranger inside probably isn’t a good idea, he seems harmless enough.Even though he welcomes the stranger to stay for a while, he certainly never accounted for the increasing amount of slipperiness in his bathtub and the possibilities of what might be hiding underneath that eyepatch.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 20
Kudos: 377





	a touch so foreign

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing anything like this so excuse the horribleness
> 
> basically san is small cephalopod boy who goes from not knowing what jerking off his to fucking wooyoung with both his human dick and his tentacle dick. yay!
> 
> title from e.t. by katy perry

Wooyoung likes rain. He thinks the sound of raindrops pattering down on his windows is soothing, along with a glass of wine and acoustic tunes playing in the background. Thunder makes it even better, and according to the weather forecast, it’s supposed to rain consistently for the next three days, with tonight’s being the most severe. He’s already bundled up in his blankets with his glass of wine while the television spills indie music from its radio channels, feeling his head swaying to the ups and downs of the tunes, when there’s a frantic knock at his door.

He immediately frowns because _who the hell has the audacity to interrupt his peaceful alone time_ , and he waits a few seconds because _maybe_ the person will go away, but then it happens again. Five knocks. And then five more knocks. With a frustrated huff, Wooyoung sets his glass down on the coffee table and stands up to open the door, leaving his blankets behind. He figures it must be a surprise visit of sorts from Yeosang or Mingi because they just love to show up uninvited sometimes for the sole purpose of seeing his face turn beet red from anger.

“Yeosang, I swear to god, this isn’t—”

It’s not Yeosang. Far from him, actually. It’s a stranger, a complete stranger, clad in nothing but a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants that are covered in multicolored stains. He’s the tiniest bit taller than Wooyoung, but his frame is so thin that he appears so much smaller. The first thing Wooyoung notices, however, is the white eyepatch over his left eye.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

The stranger’s visible eye widens with panic. “I, uh… I’m so, so sorry to bother you. Really, I am. You’re in no way obligated to let me in but I’m lost a-and I don’t have anywhere to go and it looks like it’s going to rain.” He speaks quickly, shakily, his body shivering just like his voice. “S-So, if it’s not too much trouble, m-may I come in?”

This could really be an attempt to rob him or something, but the more Wooyoung looks at him, the worse he feels. He’s thin, _quite_ thin, like he hasn’t eaten anything nutritious for the past month, and even though it’s not even that cold, he’s visibly shivering. Not to mention one of his eyes is covered up, meaning that his vision is probably obscured, and Wooyoung can only imagine being like this during a thunderstorm.

So Wooyoung steps aside and motions for the stranger to step in when he realizes that he’s only wearing a pair of gray sandals. “Again, I’m s-so sorry, but thank you s-so much,” the stranger stammers as he steps inside and kicks off his sandals.

“It’s, uh, no problem,” Wooyoung says, closing the door behind them. “Just as long as you don’t rob me or anything. I have pepper spray.” The longer Wooyoung stares at him, however, the more he thinks he can take this guy without any sort of weapon.

The stranger’s movements are quick and jerky, head twitching as he looks in Wooyoung’s direction with one fearful eye. “I-I promise I won’t take anything! I-I just, um, need to s-stay until the rain passes, i-if that’s okay.”

“The rain isn’t supposed to stop for three days,” Wooyoung says.

“O-Oh. Crap.”

Wooyoung lets out a sigh as he steps past the stranger into the kitchen. “Look, I don’t have a problem with you staying the night, but I don’t know about three whole days. We’ll see, though.” The stranger’s shoulders shrink inward as he glances down at the floor, body rigid and still shaking.

“I-I’m really sorry about this,” he says.

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung reassures, returning to the sofa and retrieving one of his many blankets. When he begins to wrap it around the stranger, he flinches, though his hands come up to seal the blanket around his body once Wooyoung’s leaves it. “Where’d you come from?”

“Uh, um… n-not too far from here, I think.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, wondering if this person is on drugs. It would explain the shaking and the dingy appearance. “Mhm. And what’s your name?”

“I-It’s San.”

“Surname?”

“I p-prefer not to say.”

Fair enough, Wooyoung thinks. “Okay, well, are you hungry? Thirsty? I have some leftovers in the fridge.”

“That w-would be nice, thank you.”

While San waits at the kitchen island with Wooyoung’s leopard-print blanket around his body, Wooyoung heats up some of his leftover stir fry, placing a glass of water in front of San as the microwave whirs. “My name is Wooyoung, by the way,” he tells San.

“Oh. It’s n-nice to meet you, Wooyoung.”

San keeps his eyes down on the granite countertop, his frame still trembling even beneath the blanket. “San, if you don’t mind me asking, when was the last time you ate?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh… um, yesterday? I think.”

“You think?”

San winces, and Wooyoung instantly feels a pit of guilt in his gut. As soon as the microwave beeps, he takes the stir fry out, ignoring the heat on his fingers as he slides it in San’s direction. “San,” Wooyoung says carefully as San’s slender fingers pick up the fork, “do you… do you have anywhere else to go?”

San chews his first bite slowly, his one eye remaining fixed on the counter. “N-No. Not really.”

“So you’re homeless?”

“I-I guess you could say that.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Oh, me too.”

San swallows, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his face. “Did you make this?” he asks.

Wooyoung chuckles and nods. “It’s good,” San says. He takes another bite, a much more vigorous one, and Wooyoung can’t help but smile at this complete stranger enjoying his cooking. He wolfs the food down like he hasn’t eaten in an entire week, which might actually be the case despite his words. Once his plate is bare, he gulps down the entire glass of water in one go, wincing once again as soon as the glass is empty. His eye drops to the counter again, lip quivering, and he starts to cry.

“H-Hey,” Wooyoung says, carefully tiptoeing to San’s side. “It’s okay. You’ll be safe here.”

“I’m s-so sorry,” San hiccups. The blanket almost seems to swallow him whole. “I really don’t mean to be a nuisance, but I r-really don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Do you have any family? Friends?” San shakes his head, and Wooyoung sighs. “We’ll see how the days play out. I was just gonna chill and listen to music tonight, so you’re welcome to join me, or you can sleep, I don’t know. Whatever you want. Do you need to shower?”

After a short pause, San nods meekly. “Alright, follow me.” Wooyoung guides him down the hallway and points him inside the bathroom to their right, stopping inside his room to pick up a change of clothes that probably won’t fit snugly, but it’s better than the grimy t-shirt and baggy sweatpants San is wearing. “Just, like, try not to take a long one. I’m living off of one man’s salary here. Towels are in the closet next to the sink.”

San nods and retreats into the bathroom with Wooyoung’s clothes in hand. Wooyoung lets out another sigh as he trudges back to his designated spot on the sofa, rewrapping himself in the blanket sushi roll and picking up his glass of wine again, trying to ignore the fact that there’s a malnourished homeless stranger using his shower.

Now, Wooyoung doesn’t usually keep track of time, but he’s pretty damn sure that San is in there for a long time. Like, an upwards of an hour. He’s been relaxing for the past hour, listening to the rain and thunder accompanying his indie tunes, but now that he has to pee, he realizes that San has been in there for a relatively long time.

“Hey, you alright in there?” Wooyoung knocks, and a soft yelp can be heard on the other end of the door.

“Y-Yeah, sorry! I’ll be out soon.”

“Well, could you hurry up? I have to take a leak.”

“Y-Yes, of course.”

Wooyoung waits by the door until San emerges with his hair wrapped up in a towel, dressed in the change of clothes Wooyoung had given him, a black tee and a pair of red and black plaid pajama pants, with another towel draped around his shoulders. He’s wearing his eyepatch. “I’m sorry for taking so long. It’s just… been a while.”

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung says. San nods timidly again as Wooyoung steps past him.

He’s still there when Wooyoung comes out, standing right in front of the door to Wooyoung’s bedroom. “Jesus, San!” Wooyoung exclaims, jumping back slightly.

“S-Sorry. I just don’t know, um, where you want me to go.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at him and glances at the clock on the wall beside him. It’s not even ten yet. “If you’re tired, you can sleep on the couch. I can just chill in my room.”

“Um… okay. I-I mean, I’m not that tired yet, so if you want to be alone—”

“That’s fine,” Wooyoung says, already beckoning San to follow him back out into the living room. He resumes his position once again, while San takes a seat at the opposite end of the sofa and curls himself into his blanket. “Do you want to watch TV?” San shakes his head. “Fair.”

The two sit there in an awkward silence as Wooyoung sips the rest of his wine, head swinging back and forth gently to the music. “San,” Wooyoung says, breaking the silence and causing the man to flinch again. “I’m sorry if I’m being forward, and you’re not obligated to answer any of my questions, but if you’re going to stay here, I’d really like to know more about you so I can help you.”

San swallows nervously, his thin fingers twirling the corners of the blanket. “Okay.”

“Do you really not know where you came from?” Wooyoung asks.

“I-I don’t,” San answers, truthfully from what Wooyoung can pick up on. “I, um… I’ve been wandering around for a while. I don’t know where I _am_.”

“You’re in Incheon right now.”

“How far is that from Seoul?”

“So you came from Seoul?”

San presses his lips together in a thin line and winces again. “Y-Yes, I came from Seoul. B-But I don’t know how long I’ve been walking for. I know it’s been at least a few days, though. M-Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Seoul to Incheon isn’t that far,” Wooyoung tells him. “You must’ve really not known where you were going. Where in Seoul did you come from?”

“I don’t know.”

Okay, so there’s a homeless man who’s the same age as him sitting on his sofa, who came from Seoul but has no idea _where_ in Seoul he came from or where he was going in the first place. At first, Wooyoung had been worried that this whole innocent homeless man thing was some ruse to get him to let San in, but now, he’s inclined to believe that San really doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

“Are you on drugs?” Wooyoung asks.

“Wh—no! I’m not, I swear!”

“It just seems really odd that you don’t know where in Seoul you came from. Were you living with anybody?”

“I told you, I don’t have any friends or family. I was just… living in Seoul. Alone. And now I’m here.”

Wooyoung sighs, figuring it’ll only continue to be useless trying to get definitive answers out of San. Drugs seem to be the most plausible answer at this point, but as much as San appears to be disoriented and confused, he doesn’t appear to be high or intoxicated on anything.

He just seems small and scared.

“May I ask what happened to your eye?” Wooyoung asks, hoping it’s not overstepping any boundaries.

“I’m… um, I’m blind in my left eye. It kind of, um, droops a little, so I wear a patch over it,” San says. Fair enough. It’s probably the most believable thing San has said all night. “I-I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I know that everything I’m telling you seems completely farfetched, but to be honest, I’m just as clueless as you. I have no idea where I am, I’m lost, and I don’t have any family or friends or anywhere to go. L-Like I said, I’m homeless.”

San’s face has little tics here and there, Wooyoung notices, whether it’s a twitch of his visible eye or a quirk of his lip. He flinches a lot, and he’s still shaking even though he’s freshly showered and has eaten a full meal. It’s pretty safe to say that Wooyoung could probably take him on easily just in case he _does_ try to rob him, but if this is all really one big act, Wooyoung thinks it’s pretty damn convincing. In fact, Wooyoung believes him, for the most part.

“Well, alright,” Wooyoung says. “San, I’ll admit, you’re still super suspicious, but you seem harmless enough. Like I said before, if you’re planning on robbing me, I have pepper spray—”

“I’m not going to rob you,” San says firmly, probably the most affirmative he’s sounded all night.

“Fine. Anyways, you don’t seem like a bad guy, so you can stay. I don’t know how long for, just… don’t do anything stupid while you’re here. I have work off the next two days, so I’ll be around, but if I catch you rummaging through my stuff—”

“I won’t.”

“Then you can stay. For now.”

San nods. “For now.”

Wooyoung reaches his hand out for San to shake. Hesitantly, San takes it, his grip loose, and for some reason, his hand is wet.

-

San is already awake the next morning sitting cross-legged on the sofa and staring blankly ahead at the television. It’s not even on.

“How long have you been awake?” Wooyoung asks sleepily.

“A few hours. I didn’t get much sleep. It’s okay, though. Probably the most sleep I’ve gotten in a while,” San replies with a shrug.

“Right. Well, I’m going to shower before I cook breakfast. Anything in particular?” San shakes his head.

As Wooyoung conjures up an idea of what to make for breakfast, he turns on the shower, which heats up pretty quickly actually, God bless, and steps inside, only to have to grab onto one of the handlebars because he fucking slips.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaims with both of his hands clutched around the bar. He experimentally slides his feet along the bottom of the tub, feeling as if it’s been coated with lube or something. Whatever’s causing the slide, it’s invisible. Wooyoung can’t see any trace of a slippery substance.

The only thing he can think of in that moment is his lube, and he obviously wasn’t the one to spread it all over the tub’s floor, which leaves San. But he also doesn’t keep his lube in the bathroom and San had been in the living room all night.

What the fuck?

The slipperiness disappears, the steam from the scalding hot shower seemingly dissolving it, but he can’t shake the oddness of it. All the more, no suds appear when the slickness washes away, so evidently, it must not be his shampoo or body wash, and he would’ve been able to see the white of his conditioner.

“San,” Wooyoung says as soon as he reemerges from the bathroom. “Did you… um, did you spill anything in the shower last night?”

San frowns, though he flinches again. “No, I didn’t. W-Why?”

“I slid in the tub as soon as I stepped in. You sure you didn’t spill any shampoo or anything in there last night?”

“N-No, I only used your body wash, a-and I made sure to wash everything away. I’m sorry for being in there for a while, though.”

Whatever, Wooyoung figures. At least he’s still alive, not dead in his bathtub with a cracked and bloody skull.

He settles for making pancakes for breakfast. As expected, San practically inhales them, smiling and chewing enthusiastically, and Wooyoung can’t help but feel warm inside.

-

The daylight is dim from the sun being masked by overcast clouds, but the breeze that flows in from the window is a relief from the hot, humid days that led up to this three-day period of rain. Wooyoung stands at the window, watching the suburban streets as they’re pounded by rain, enjoying the breeze tingling his skin.

“Do you like rain, San?” Wooyoung asks.

“Um… yeah, I do. Just not being in it.”

“Ah, of course. Driving in it is a pain too. But you like it in general?”

“Yeah. It’s comforting. Do you like rain?”

“Love it. I love it when there’s thunder and lightning too. It’s like, how I was last night. Just wrapped up in some blankets, relaxing with a glass of wine while listening to some calming music. Helps me feel at peace, you know?”

“I… guess. I don’t know. I’ve never… experienced something like that before.”

“What?”

“Relaxing. Listening to the rain and music. For me, it’s mostly been hiding from the rain and listening to cars honking.” San adds a humorless laugh.

Wooyoung frowns, imagining San’s shivering body hiding beneath awnings or dumpsters or whatever he can find on the streets, and it’s as if in that moment Wooyoung feels a shiver of his own. He couldn’t imagine wandering wet pavements wearing nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants, and he wonders how in the world San managed to get by for what he thinks is a few days. He glances over at San, whose eyes are still fixed on the blank television.

“Hey, San,” Wooyoung says, sympathy brimming over the edge, “you can stay for however long you need.”

“What?” San exclaims, posture rigid as he gawks at Wooyoung. “N-No! I couldn’t possibly do that!”

“And I’d feel like shit if I just let you back onto the streets,” Wooyoung says. He turns to face San, whose single eye is staring him down in shock. “Just stay, it’s fine. It’s pretty lonely living alone, anyway.”

“B-But it’s like you said, you’re living off one man’s salary a-and I don’t… I can’t…”

San’s entire mouth is quivering at this point with words that are stuck inside, his eye glassing over with oncoming tears. Wooyoung doesn’t say anything; he just watches as San’s face crumbles because he doesn’t know what else to say. He can get by while having San around, and San himself can probably get a few freelance jobs here and there to help out financially. He doesn’t see an issue.

Even so, whatever San is imagining clearly isn’t the same as what Wooyoung has in mind, because he’s full on bawling now, his face buried in his hands. “I can’t… I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” Wooyoung questions.

“I can’t stay. N-Not for a long time.”

“And I can’t let you be homeless again,” Wooyoung says. “L-Look, it’s not because I pity you or anything. It’ll be fine. If money is what you’re worried about, I’m sure you can pick up a few jobs here and there. It’ll be okay.”

“It won’t,” San argues, face still hidden behind his hands. “I can’t stay, Wooyoung. When the rain passes… I’ll leave. And that’s _my_ decision.”

The decision has Wooyoung dumbfounded. Why San would want to leave, he can’t even begin to fathom. He’s sure any homeless person would jump at the opportunity to have a place to stay, so why is San so adamant about it?

“Where are you gonna go, then? You said you don’t have anywhere to go.”

Even though San isn’t looking at him, Wooyoung can see the way his body jerks at the statement. “I-I’ll figure it out on my own. I just… I’m not going to stay with you, Wooyoung. I don’t have anything against you, f-far from it, actually. I just… it’s not going to work. I can’t stay.”

Wooyoung sighs. “Fine. But you’ll at least stay tonight, right? Until the rain passes?”

“Until the rain passes.” San still isn’t raising his head. “U-Um, c-could you maybe, um, look away for a second? I need to adjust my patch a-and… I don’t want you to see my eye.”

“Oh. Okay.” Wooyoung glances down before turning back to the window.

In the reflection of the glass, Wooyoung can see San turn away from him and lift his eyepatch, wiping both of his eyes furiously, sniffling as he does. He repositions the patch before turning back around, though his hand still lingers over his patch.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Wooyoung comments. “Whatever your eye looks like. I mean, if you don’t want me to see it, that’s fine. But just know that I’m not going to judge you just because of that, you know?”

Still staring at San’s reflection in the window, he can see him smile. “Th-thank you, Wooyoung. You’re very n-nice.”

Wooyoung chuckles, continuing to stare at his reflection as well as San’s. He’s still smiling, and it doesn’t go away for a long time.

-

San takes another very long shower.

It doesn’t irk Wooyoung _that_ much, but he times it out of curiosity this time since last night’s lasted at _least_ an hour. Tonight’s lasts an hour and seven minutes, from when Wooyoung first hears the pipes running to when San finally steps out from the bathroom, hair wrapped in a towel while he holds another one.

Wooyoung also finds it a bit peculiar that the bathroom mirror isn’t steamy at all. He doesn’t know a single person who likes cold showers, but maybe San is one of those people. It’s weird, considering San is shivering more often than not.

Wooyoung showers right after San, and he fucking slips. Again.

“What the _fuck_?” Wooyoung shouts just as he grips the handlebar for support once more.

Okay, the only possibility is that it’s San. He’s pretty sure he’d washed the slipperiness away that morning, and all of a sudden, it’s back?

He does exactly what he did in the morning, that is, let the steam from his hot shower break down whatever’s making him slip and slide, but at one point, he crouches down and gathers the substance on his fingers. It’s viscous, whatever it is, slippery like lube but much… stickier. How it’s both slippery and sticky at the same time is beyond him.

He sniffs it.

It smells like salt.

Did San just fucking come or something? Is that why he took so long to shower?

San is attractive, Wooyoung admits, but he still finds it a bit unconventional and just a tad rude to jerk off in a stranger’s shower.

“San,” Wooyoung finds him in the living room with his hair still in a towel. “Did you… have fun in the shower?”

San frowns and tilts his head. “What? I m-mean, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean by that,” San says, appearing as if he’s about to flinch again. “Showers are relaxing, s-so I guess I did.”

“You sure you didn’t… do anything else in there?”

“No?”

Wooyoung lets out a frustrated huff. “San, did you jerk off in my shower?”

San doesn’t react in the way Wooyoung would’ve thought he would. It’s not out of surprise, nor out of embarrassment. It’s out of confusion, like he has no clue what Wooyoung is talking about.

And it’s confirmed when San asks him, “What does that mean?”

“Are you serious?” Wooyoung asks, though not accusingly. He’s just as confused as San is, apparently, because how does a grown man not know what ‘jerking off’ means?

“I-I really don’t know… what you mean by ‘jerking off,’” San says.

From what Wooyoung can tell, San is being truthful, but it’s baffling him, how a twenty-two-year-old doesn’t know what jerking off is. “You know,” Wooyoung says, making a circle with his hand and motioning the act, “this?”

San stares at him blankly. “I don’t know what that is, so… no, I didn’t.”

“You seriously don’t know what jerking off is? What, have you lived under a rock your whole life?”

San winces again, and Wooyoung instantly feels the guilt. “I-I’m sorry. What is it, i-if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Uh,” Wooyoung says, glancing down at his hand that’s still formed in a circle, “it’s when you… uh.” He gestures again. “Do this. To your dick.”

San blinks a few times as he watches the motion, and that’s when he catches on. “Oh! N-No, I didn’t do that!” His eye is wide with bewilderment, a deep blush appearing on his cheeks.

A _deep_ blush. It’s so pink that he might as well become the inside of a grapefruit.

It’s… unnatural, actually. How pink San’s face turns. As if he already knows, he shields his face again, though his hands are just about as pink as his face. “I’m sorry!” he cries. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Wooyoung asks.

San is _sobbing_ , his unnaturally rosy body convulsing every time a sob wracks through him. Wooyoung takes careful steps forward, trying his best not to upset the poor man, but as if he can sense Wooyoung approaching him, he recoils back against the couch. “I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry. I’ll leave you alone, I p-promise—”

“Whoa, hold on, San!” Wooyoung says, kneeling at the edge of the couch. He doesn’t dare touch him, but he glances up at San, who refuses to look back at him, hands still obscuring his face. “What is it? You can tell me. I won’t judge.”

San sniffles. “I… I’d understand if you’d want to kick me out after this.”

“It’s _fine_ , San,” Wooyoung reassures. “But if it really was you who got that… weird stuff in my shower, I’d like to know what exactly you did.”

After a few seconds, San slowly lowers his hands, his skin blotched red, almost splotchy, like an all-encompassing rash decided to break out on his face. “I-I don’t know if you’ll b-believe me, but I’ll tell you the truth,” San says.

If it’s that San has a skin condition or something, that’s pretty believable. But San sniffles again, hesitantly raising a trembling hand to his eyepatch, and he lifts it.

Wooyoung’s mouth drops open.

Underneath his eyepatch isn’t a lazy eye. It’s a glossy, multicolored eyeball with an abnormally large pupil, with luminescent blues and greens instead of white. He blinks, and it’s almost as if the eye rotates for a split second before his lid close over it. It’s so lustrous that Wooyoung can almost see his reflection in its colors.

“What…” Wooyoung stares at it in awe, completely speechless. “San, what…”

San lets out a shameful sigh and looks down. “You’re not going to believe me when I tell you.”

“Well, try me, because your eye… doesn’t look like a normal eye. Is it a condition or something?” Wooyoung doesn’t know what eye condition makes one look like that of a _fish_ , but maybe he’ll learn something new.

And he certainly does.

“The truth is… I came from a laboratory in Seoul that does experiments on human-animal hybrids. I was one of their semi-successful results.” San looks up again, and that’s when Wooyoung’s hit with it. That explains it, sort of.

It’s reality-crushing, but he lets San continue. “Usually, they’ll exterminate their failed attempts, but because I was mostly successful, they raised me… and then let me go, because they didn’t want to get rid of me completely, even though they managed to create a more successful hybrid.”

“A hybrid of _what_?” Wooyoung asks.

“Cephalopod. You know, octopuses, squids. Things with tentacles.”

_Tentacles._

“I have a whole mixture of cephalopod DNA in me. Octopus, squid, cuttlefish, you name it. But I’d say I’m eighty percent human, twenty percent cephalopod. I have a lot of cephalopod characteristics, like… _this._ ” San points at his one bioluminescent eyeball and the blotchy redness of his skin. “And that’s why your shower’s been all… slimy. I produce that stuff when I get wet. I don’t think that’s a characteristic of cephalopods, but it’s probably my body’s way of saying, ‘hey, you’re in water, better make the most of it,’ since I spend most of my time on land.”

Wooyoung’s at a loss for words. As much as this backstory destroys his reality and what he’s aware of, he’s not about to sit back and disregard San’s explanation. The proof is right in front of him for fuck’s sake.

“So… you have tentacles?” Wooyoung asks.

San nods. “They come out of my back.”

“Holy shit.”

“I-I won’t show you them. They’re…” San sighs shakily, shrinking in on himself further. “They’re not pretty. I figure most people would find them pretty disgusting.”

Wooyoung isn’t about to ask to see them, especially if San’s uncomfortable with it, but he wouldn’t necessarily _mind_. As strange and outlandish as this whole situation is, he can’t help but feel intrigued. To think, there are human-animal hybrids? What if they’re just walking around the streets without anybody knowing?

“H-Hey,” Wooyoung says, leaning in, his chest level with San’s knees. “I stand by what I said earlier. I’m not going to judge you. In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.”

San raises his head at that, looking at Wooyoung incredulously. “Cool?”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, it definitely kind of crushes my reality, but I think it’s pretty cool. Your eye is really pretty, too.”

San flushes pink again. “O-Oh. Thank you?”

Wooyoung chuckles and leans back, smiling at San reassuringly. It seems like his tears have passed for the most part. “Could you maybe… tell me more? What was it like growing up?”

So San tells him about his life, or what he remembers of it, or what he was told. He’d started out as a human egg in a petri dish, injected with the cephalopod mixture of DNA, processed through convoluted and advanced technology that would eventually create a successful human-cephalopod zygote, nested and nurtured in a chamber of hormones and amniotic fluids, and voila, San, the semi-successful human-cephalopod hybrid was born. San tells him that he doesn’t know about the finer details of the process, but that’s the gist of it.

He’d been their first successful creation in the cephalopod realm, so they kept him and raised him until they created another, whose DNA was closer to the equilibrium of fifty percent human and fifty percent cephalopod that they sought. After that, they simply let him go since he was more human than marine creature. He supposes it’s better than being eliminated entirely, which happens to hybrids that are born with defects. Some hybrids don’t live past early childhood. San was lucky to have lived for twenty-two years.

Throughout his life, they subjected him to tests that sometimes hurt. He retells the story of how they once tried to extract ink out of him, which is something that he is unable to produce, they discovered. He grimaces at the memory, and Wooyoung can only imagine how they went about it.

He’d grown up with scientists as his parental figures for the most part, but he did say that there was a nice man named Hongjoong who taught him how to read and write, and another man named Seonghwa, who acted as a teacher of sorts. To San, they treated him like a son more so than the scientists.

But it must have been a very sheltered, sequestered lifestyle, Wooyoung imagines. There are so many things San hasn’t been exposed to, clearly, and for them to just throw him out onto the street because he wasn’t their priority anymore?

They might not have damaged him _that_ much, but they certainly sound cruel.

San assures Wooyoung that it’s okay, that he’d always accepted his fate from the beginning. It’s just a thing that happens at the place, apparently. He figured that one day, he’d be tossed away once he’s deemed useless, and that’s exactly what happened. He says, “At least they didn’t kill me,” which, sure, but with how little San knows about the outside world, they might as well have.

“I’m guessing you really didn’t eat, huh?” Wooyoung asks.

San nods sheepishly. “You’re right. I didn’t know how to go about getting food. I had no money, and I couldn’t find any bodies of water that had fish in them.”

“You can eat raw fish?”

“Yeah. Cephalopods are marine predators. I can eat any seafood raw, along with human food. Just… not octopus or squid. It feels like cannibalism if I eat those.”

The two chuckle at that. “So… yeah. That’s the truth. I figured maybe I could get away with it. I take long showers because it takes a while for the slime to go away, but I guess… it doesn’t go away entirely.”

“It goes away when I take my showers. _Hot_ showers.”

“Oh,” San says. His skin tone has returned to normal, but his cheeks still flush (a normal pink this time). “That’s why. If I take hot showers… it’s not good. I usually take cold ones or lukewarm ones.”

“Well, at least I know now,” Wooyoung says. “And… I still don’t feel inclined to kick you out or let you back on the streets. It’s like you said, still. You don’t have anywhere to go, not to mention you don’t know how the human world _works._ You were seriously trapped in a lab for your whole life?”

“I wouldn’t say _trapped_. I was just never exposed to the outside world. There was a nature sanctuary, like, a built-in ‘outside’ area, but that’s about as outside as I’ve been.”

“That’s all the more reason to stay, then,” Wooyoung says. “I can show you the outside world.”

San glances down again, hands clasped together. “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Wooyoung says earnestly, resting a hand on top of San’s. They’re warm, he notes. “I’m not going to throw you back out on the streets like they did.”

Even though he still doesn’t look up, San smiles.

“Thank you, Wooyoung.”

“You’re welcome, San.”

-

When Wooyoung finally sees San’s tentacles, it nearly knocks the wind out of him.

On the surface of San’s back are two rows of tiny holes on either side of his spine. When the tentacles poke through, the holes expand, and tentacles the color of San’s flushed skin slither out of them, wriggling around like worms. They come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and lengths, some with suction cups, some without. San explains that cephalopods _do_ have suction cups on their tentacles, but some of his tentacles are without, probably due to a mix up of DNA in which a few tentacles are simply extensions of his skin. However, they’re all tinged a blotchy red, and from what Wooyoung can see, there are even specks of blue.

“Can I, uh, feel them?” Wooyoung asks.

San nods, and Wooyoung reaches out to stroke one of his non-suctioned ones. It’s slippery, definitely, but there’s no substance left on his hand when he pulls away. San lets out a giggle, saying that it tickles.

“So you can feel through them?” Wooyoung asks, poking at another one.

“Yup,” San says. “It’s just… like having multiple fingers.”

“Can you grab stuff with them?”

To prove his point, San extends one of his suctioned tentacles and curls it around Wooyoung’s phone on the bed, lifting it and dropping it into Wooyoung’s hands. “Yup.”

“That’s so cool and convenient,” Wooyoung says. “And you can control them? Like, you can make them appear whenever you want?”

“For the most part, yeah. Though it takes a lot of effort to keep them in when I’m wet. They itch a lot, and then there’s the slime.”

“Cool.” Wooyoung reaches out to grab another one without suckers, one that’s actually pretty stiff in comparison to the other ones. It has a bulbous end, and when Wooyoung touches it, it instantly twitches out of his grasp. San squeaks, some of the smaller tendrils retracting. “Whoa, you alright?” Wooyoung asks.

There’s a slimy substance on his hand.

“Y-Yeah,” San says as the rest of his tentacles retreat back into their holes. “That just… felt weird.”

“Oh.”

Wooyoung watches that one last tendril retreat back into its hole, _slowly_ , and can’t shake the feeling that he knows why, even if San doesn’t.

-

San spends his days watching television while Wooyoung is at work. He tells him all about the shows he watches, from nature documentaries to dramas to action and horror movies. Despite Wooyoung not having ample time to take San out to experience life for himself, San tells him that he’s learned a lot from the things he watches.

“They didn’t let me watch TV in the lab. Don’t know why. It’s so cool!”

Wooyoung chuckles to himself as he prepares dinner for the both of them, _seafood_ , as per San’s request.

He even gets San a bag of oysters, not shucked, because according to San, he can crush shells with his tentacles.

Turns out San is right, and he makes a mess of oyster shell pieces on Wooyoung’s kitchen table. Meanwhile, he slurps the oysters down one by one, smiling happily as he does so.

It’s cute, Wooyoung thinks. San, in all of his tentacles and luminescent eyeball, is cute.

-

They like to watch the rain together.

Wooyoung offers San some of his wine, which he frowns at once he dips his tongue into it, saying that it’s not appealing to his human or cephalopod taste buds. They put on a movie, some sappy romance one that Wooyoung’s never seen and isn’t interested in, but San seems so immersed, watching with intent eyes as the couple on screen kisses passionately.

“I’ve seen that on the streets,” San comments. “When people do that. It’s called kissing, right?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung replies.

“Why do people do it?”

San’s oblivion never fails to surprise Wooyoung. “A sign of affection, usually. When two people really like or love each other, they’ll kiss. Well, it doesn’t have to be like that _all_ the time, like, friends can kiss too. Anybody can kiss. But, uh, I guess it’s more common among couples,” Wooyoung explains.

“What does it feel like?”

“Uh… I don’t know how to describe it. It feels nice, though.”

San is already curled up against his side, and this conversation isn’t helping the nervous fluttering of Wooyoung’s heart. He’s come to terms with it; San is _adorable._ He’s undeniably attractive. Having stayed with Wooyoung for just under two weeks now, he’s gained some weight back and doesn’t stutter as much. He smiles a lot more, with so much innocence and joy, which makes Wooyoung smile just as often.

So San asking him what kissing feels like is _really_ tempting, but he’s not about to step over boundaries. He feels like he’s been doing that too much.

“Can you show me?” San asks, like Wooyoung’s silent desires have all of a sudden just popped up in his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“N-No! It’s, um… yeah, okay. I can show you.”

San lifts his head up off of Wooyoung’s lap and rests on his palms, gazing at Wooyoung expectantly. “So what do I do?”

“Um, you just… follow my lead, I guess. Move your lips with mine, if that makes sense.”

With a hesitant look, San nods, and Wooyoung moves in painfully slowly, his hand laying over San’s as he presses his lips against the hybrid’s. A tiny yelp sounds in the back of San’s throat, _cute_ , Wooyoung thinks.

He barely moves his lips at all, opting for slower, more tender movements of his lips. San clumsily tries to follow along, but as awkward of a kisser he is, it’s still so adorable to Wooyoung, and he slips his fingers into San’s.

He pulls away, and under the television’s glow, San’s skin shines a beautiful blue-red. “You’re cute, Sannie,” he murmurs.

“You’re pretty cute too, Wooyoungie.”

Wooyoung chuckles and leans in again, his movements a tad bit more intense as he presses forward in a deeper kiss than the previous one. San’s hands instinctively latch onto his shoulders as Wooyoung guides him onto his back, hands on his waist. San’s mouth is warm, wet, just like any other human mouth. He’s really just like any other human in this sense, Wooyoung thinks.

San’s a quick learner, Wooyoung discovers, as his tongue sneaks past Wooyoung’s lips and into his mouth, flicking against his own and tightening his grip around the back of Wooyoung’s neck. San holds his body close, hips bucking upward as he lets out breathy whimpers that get caught in his throat. He disconnects their lips, panting, lips swollen and pink.

“W-Wait,” San says. “I feel weird.”

That’s right, Wooyoung remembers. He knows absolutely nothing.

“It’s normal,” Wooyoung tells him, putting on a reassuring smile. “It… uh, it’s the human body’s natural response to something like this.”

“Kissing, you mean?”

“W-Well, it depends. When you kiss like how we just were… your body reacts in a lot of ways.”

“I feel all tingly inside,” San says just above a whisper. “All warm. And m-my tentacles. They wanna come out.”

“Oh.”

Wooyoung stares blankly into San’s eyes, his human one and cephalopod one, wracking his brain for something to say, because as much as he would _love_ to do more with San, it doesn’t feel right. Not when San doesn’t know anything.

And now, he’s saying his tentacles want to come out?

“I’m s-sorry,” San says. “I’m just being weird.”

“It’s not weird, San,” Wooyoung replies, taking San’s hand in his again. “It’s normal. I mean, I can’t speak for your tentacles, but the rest of it is normal. I just… I mean, I’d show you more, but I feel like it’s a little too much.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Like… sex is a lot.”

San’s eyes widen. “O-Oh. That? Is that what we’re doing?”

“N-No! No, far from it,” Wooyoung laughs, sitting back up while San remains lying on his back. “Uh… it’s just, you’re a virgin, o-obviously, and you didn’t even know what ‘jerking off’ meant, so—”

“Then show me,” San says firmly, sitting up as well. “I’m telling you it’s okay. I mean, I’m twenty-two. I _should_ know about this kind of stuff by now, right? It’s not like I’m opposed to it or anything. I just haven’t… been exposed to it, among many other things.”

Wooyoung purses his lips and stares San down, his face showing no signs of bashfulness, but _determination_ instead. He sighs defeatedly. “Okay. But tell me if you want me to stop, okay? It can be a bit overwhelming at first.”

San nods and Wooyoung leans in again, resuming their previous positions as they meet in another kiss. San’s hand grasps the back of Wooyoung’s head, fingers threaded in his hair, and his hips thrust upwards again to attain friction, whining as he does. Wooyoung pants against his lips, his hand slowly descending down San’s body between them, reaching the bulge in his pajamas and squeezing lightly.

“Mmph!” San squeals, gasping as he pulls away. “W-Wooyoung, what did you do?”

“I’m just touching you,” Wooyoung says, straightening up as he continues to rub San through his pants. “Does it feel good?”

San nods enthusiastically. “Y-Yes, it feels _so_ good. Could you do it more?”

“Of course.” Wooyoung smiles, feeling San’s erection growing with each of his hand’s motions. “Is it okay if I take your pants off?”

“Y-Yeah, okay.”

San helps with it, his hard cock springing free. It’s tinted pink, just like the rest of his body, and just about the same size as Wooyoung’s. It’s leaking a _lot_ , his precome reminding Wooyoung of the slime the rest of him produces.

Once Wooyoung’s bare hand makes contact with his cock, San’s back arches off the sofa as he keens, using his elbows in a quick reflex to catch his body. “W-Wooyoung, wait. I need… I’m sorry, but can I take my shirt off?”

“Um, yeah, of course. Shirts usually come off during this type of thing anyway—”

But as soon as his shirt comes off, Wooyoung is reminded of the reason why. San’s tentacles burst out from his back, one of them nearly knocking over the remote on the coffee table. He’s hiding his face behind his hands again, having fully sat up in order to give his tendrils space to move. “I’m s-sorry, Wooyoung,” San sniffles. “I understand if you want to stop—”

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung says, though the mass of tentacles hovering around him in all directions has him a bit intimidated. “Um… we’ll just have to change positions so your tentacles have space to move.”

“O-Okay. Um, where do you want me to move?”

“H-Here. Wait a sec.” Wooyoung stands up, stripping himself of his own shirt and sweatpants, leaving his underwear on. “You, uh, can be on top of me. Like this.” He lies back down, assuming San’s previous position.

“Are you sure?” San asks, though he’s already straddling Wooyoung, knees planted beside his hips. His tentacles are still hanging by his sides, some of the ends flicking and twitching as San’s cock brushes against Wooyoung’s. “I’m sorry! I won’t touch you with them, I promise. They just, ah… I guess it’s an instinct, or something.”

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung says. “Here.”

He reaches up and pulls San back down by the back of his neck, hand wrapping around San’s cock once again. It’s coated with the slick substance, making the slide effortless. San’s body is trembling on top of him, helpless moans escaping his lips and into Wooyoung’s as he bucks into Wooyoung’s hand.

“Wooyoung,” San whines once he pulls away, “it f-feels like something’s going to come out.”

“Let it come out,” Wooyoung murmurs, kissing along San’s jaw.

“W-Wait, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s hand comes to an abrupt halt at San’s instruction. “What’s wrong?”

San sits back up, chest heaving. “This is… this is really embarrassing, but…” He trails off, eyes locked on one of his tentacles that looks particularly attentive, the one with the bulbous end, Wooyoung realizes. It’s floating just above Wooyoung’s arm, almost hesitantly. “This one… it wants to be touched too. Y-You don’t have to, though! It’s, um—”

“San, it’s _okay_.” Wooyoung had probably been correct in his previous assumption, that being that this tentacle in particular is basically the equivalent of San’s cephalopod dick. Which, yeah, it’s strange, but it’s to be expected at this point. San _is_ partially another animal, after all.

So he holds his other hand out loosely, allowing the tendril to slide into his palm. Like San’s human dick, it’s covered in slime already, and it thrusts itself into Wooyoung’s hand.

“Oh, f-fuck,” San cries, hips thrusting his human cock into Wooyoung’s other hand. “Oh my _god_.”

“Feel good?” Wooyoung asks, stroking both of San’s cocks. His tentacle is much girthier than his human dick, and ten times wetter, _smoother_ even. He moves it over next to San’s cock, right above his abdomen, feeling the slick pool onto his skin. It’s warm.

“Y-Yes, it feels so good,” San whimpers, his hips and his tentacles thrusting into his hands. “Something’s gonna… gonna come out. W-What do I do?”

“Let it come out,” Wooyoung repeats.

Those words are all it takes for San to come, both appendages spurting white fluid onto Wooyoung’s stomach. San practically screams, head thrown back and back arched as he orgasms for the first time. “Ah, W-Wooyoung!”

With both of San’s cocks coming at the same time, Wooyoung’s torso gets _covered_ in it. It’s thick, opaque, and some of it trickles down past Wooyoung’s ribs and onto his sofa.

Well, fuck.

“I’m s-sorry,” San stammers, knees buckling. His tentacles begin to recede, even the one that had just come onto Wooyoung’s stomach.

“I-It’s okay.” Wooyoung sits up cautiously, grimacing as the slime continues to spill onto the sofa. Good thing it’s leather. “I, uh… I’m gonna go clean up.”

“W-Wait, I’ll do it. I made the mess anyway.” San gives a nervous chuckle and hurries to the kitchen, gathering as many paper towels as he can to wipe up the majority of the fluid. Whatever’s left on him dries over, creating a thin, sticky layer that he’ll definitely have to wash up. “God, I’m so so sorry,” San says as he eyes Wooyoung nervously.

Wooyoung just laughs and shrugs. “Hey, at least you know what an orgasm is now.”

“A what? Orgasm?”

“Yeah. When that stuff came out of you. It felt really good, didn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah. It did.”

“That’s called an orgasm. Or, in simpler terms, it’s called ‘coming.’”

“Oh.”

Wooyoung stands up and makes his way towards the shower, where he lets the steam wash away the stickiness, wondering what San’s tentacles would feel like all over him.

He comes in under three minutes.

-

It’s a lazy Sunday after noon when San asks to return the favor. When Wooyoung asks him how, he shrugs and asks Wooyoung what _he_ wants to do, and, well, Wooyoung is honest. The confession surprises San, to say the least, but he complies nonetheless.

There’s a fog in his brain as he watches San’s graceful tentacles emerge from his back, floating around him attentively. They’re hesitant, Wooyoung can tell. _San_ is hesitant. But Wooyoung is already laid out in front of them, his naked body exposed and cock hard just _thinking_ about what the slick would feel like against his own cock.

With both his human and animal sides merged as one, San’s human cock is hard and aroused, just like his tentacle.

“H-How do you want me to do this?” San asks him, his tentacle dick positioned right above Wooyoung’s. He’s sitting on Wooyoung’s shins, the rest of his tentacles hovering all around Wooyoung’s body.

“Just, ah, could you… like, wrap your tentacle around it?”

San nods, coiling his fleshy appendage around Wooyoung’s cock and giving it an experimental tug. “Oh!” he exclaims suddenly.

“Y-Yeah, like that,” Wooyoung groans as more slick oozes out, coating both of their cocks in San’s fluid. San whimpers, the friction from the action stimulating both of his dicks, resulting in precome leaking from San’s human one onto Wooyoung’s bedsheets. Despite cephalopods being cold-blooded (at least, Wooyoung is pretty sure they are), San’s touch is _warm_ , giving him just the right amount of slickness and friction.

“Oh, _god_ , San,” Wooyoung moans, head tilted back against his pillow as he thrusts up into San’s tentacle. “That feels so fucking good.”

“It feels good for me too,” San replies, his own hips circling on Wooyoung’s legs as his human cock twitches.

Wooyoung looks up to see San’s mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. His skin has turned pink again, that same patchy reddish pink, but he’s _gorgeous_ , Wooyoung thinks. Exotic. Extraordinary. And when San opens his eyes, Wooyoung stares straight into the lustrous blue, and he can’t help but think that San might be one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever laid eyes upon.

“Gonna come, S-San,” Wooyoung warns through a clenched jaw.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” San says, sighing blissfully as his tentacle speeds up its strokes.

Wet noises penetrate the room as Wooyoung comes, his semen splashing across his abdomen and all over San’s tentacle. San gasps in both surprise and pleasure, releasing his own loads shortly after, once again creating a mess on Wooyoung’s stomach and furniture.

Wooyoung watches as San’s body returns to ‘normal,’ but that’s not even a word he would use. San is San, whether his skin is a patchy pink or the color of gold, tentacles or no tentacles, brown iris or blue. Just like an octopus, San camouflages himself into whatever environment he’s in, and in this case, it’s the human world.

San falls asleep that night with his head resting on Wooyoung’s chest, an arm thrown over Wooyoung’s torso, as Wooyoung pets his hair, his human hair, smiling as he inhales the sweet aroma of his apple-scented conditioner.

-

San’s tentacles are being put to the test like this.

It’s Wooyoung’s first time seeing San glazed over in the slime his body produces. They’d taken a shower together, a _lukewarm_ one, and sure enough, San’s skin scaled over and a translucent, viscous coat of slime seeped from his pores. His tentacles were practically forced out, and it took everything in Wooyoung’s power not to touch them.

Except now, they’re in the bedroom, and Wooyoung is at the mercy of their clutch. The longer, thicker ones have a firm hold on his arms and legs, secured around them and suctioning them in place. Smaller but girthy ones support the inner parts of his limbs, while ones with flatter ends support his back and neck. The thinnest ones, coated in a combination of San’s slick and Wooyoung’s lube, prod at his hole and trail up and down the sides of his ribcage and all the way down to his pelvis.

“Are you okay?” San asks.

Wooyoung nods, though his chest is shining with sweat. Never in his life did he think he’d be held up like this, by a wide array of tentacles that appear about ready to eat him alive. His feet are in the _air_ for crying out loud. There’s nothing underneath him besides San’s strongest, thickest tentacles. All the while, the hybrid is standing casually in the middle of the room.

When the bundle of San’s thin tentacles finally push past his rim, Wooyoung writhes in his grasp, a shrill moan tearing through his lips. It doesn’t hurt, not at _all_ , even though the girth of the tendrils combined could easily equate to two fingers, maybe three. The slime is making everything all the more easy.

Even though it’s not San’s tentacle cock, the hybrid still moans as his tentacles feel their way inside Wooyoung, wriggling around and stretching his walls. They undulate in wayward directions, making a mess of his insides, and even pressing up against his prostate unknowingly.

“ _Right there_ , San!” Wooyoung exclaims, his cock achingly hard against his stomach.

“Here?” San asks genuinely, curiously wiggling his tentacles against his prostate.

“Fuck, _yes_!”

San giggles, curling his special tentacle around Wooyoung’s cock and gasping as he does. “You’re so beautiful, Wooyoungie.”

Wooyoung would respond, but he’s too busy seeing fireworks burst beneath his eyelids as he comes, releasing over his stomach and San’s tentacle, just like he’s done many times before. “Fuck, _fuck_ , Sannie! _Please_ , fuck me.”

They’ve gotten up to plenty of other activities before, but never something like this. San’s had his tentacle in Wooyoung’s mouth, San’s had Wooyoung’s cock in his, everything _except_ this. Full, penetrative sex.

It’s safe to say that they’re both nervous.

San brings Wooyoung’s body closer to him as the skinny tendrils spill from his hole, aligning his human cock against the entrance. His tentacle slithers up to Wooyoung’s face, caressing his jaw before gently pressing against his lips. “Are you ready?” San asks him.

“Yes, _fuck_ ,” Wooyoung groans.

Both of San’s cocks skewer him at once, his human one pressing into him while his tentacle invades his mouth. Immediately, Wooyoung is overwhelmed with the saltiness of San’s tentacle, slime dribbling out of his mouth as he tries to swirl his tongue around its girth. Tears pour from his eyes as he’s fucked from both ends, as the bulk of San’s tentacles move Wooyoung’s body in accordance to his thrusts.

All Wooyoung can do is lay back and _take it._

He swears his eyes roll back as he gags around San’s tentacle, more saliva and slick gushing from the sides of his mouth. Both of San’s cocks are hitting him so fucking deep, his human one jabbing his prostate which each thrust and his tentacle colliding with the back of Wooyoung’s throat. His skin is soaked with sweat and spit and slime, possibly even mucus, as San fucks everything from every orifice on his face.

“God, Wooyoung, you’re taking it so well,” San praises, his hands digging into Wooyoung’s waist. Combined with the force of his tentacles and the grip on Wooyoung’s hips, San is driving into him _deep_ , a sensation unlike anything Wooyoung has ever felt before. It’s salty and sweaty and _messy_ , but fuck, Wooyoung loves every savory second of it.

His brain has been reduced to the very slime that’s covering both of their bodies. His tongue has given up, and he lets San’s tentacle move around in his mouth as it pleases, garbled moans and breaths spilling from his nose. The slender tentacles that worked him open have resurfaced and are sliding inside him again alongside San’s cock, creating a stretch that has Wooyoung’s toes curling and fingers clenching the tentacles that restrain him.

Wooyoung is hard again, painfully so, as _two more_ suctioned tentacles latch onto his nipples and _pull._ As he screams, San tears his tentacle out from Wooyoung’s mouth, a fountain of slime and drool dripping onto the floor below them.

“I-I’m gonna fuck you with both, Wooyoungie. Is that okay?”

“Y-Yes, that’s okay,” Wooyoung rasps, choking as he struggles to inhale.

His moans finally break through once he feels San’s tentacle press in, replacing the smaller tendrils. He’s in so much pain and pleasure; the burn and stretch are _intense_ , but San is just as loud as he is, swallowed up in nothing but lust as he fucks Wooyoung for all he’s worth. They alternate in motions, San’s cock going in and his tentacle moving out, before synchronizing into one long, girthy stretch.

The smaller tentacles coil around Wooyoung’s cock and stroke it in time with San’s movements, and with that, it doesn’t take long for Wooyoung to come at all, painting his abdomen even further, feeling his body tense as his orgasm rips through it.

“Fuck, s-so tight, Wooyoungie,” San moans, his hips stuttering. “Gonna come in you, is that okay? Can I fill you up?”

“ _Please_ ,” Wooyoung practically sobs.

Feeling both of San’s cock throb inside him is an experience. He can _feel_ both loads of come spill inside, pulse after pulse, _so fucking full_ , and with both appendages still buried in his hole, the bottom of his belly expands just the smallest amount as San’s come and slime pour inside him. Wooyoung’s entire body is twitching in San’s hold as another orgasm wracks him. Nearly entirely spent, his cock spurts whatever it has left as San pulls out, the mixture of come and slime bursting from his hole and splattering onto the floor.

Good thing it’s hardwood.

-

“Wooyoung? H-Hey, Wooyoungie!”

Wooyoung’s eyelids flutter open to see San’s face staring down at him, human and cephalopod eye alike. His hair is dry. “Oh, thank god. You’re okay.”

“What? What happened?” He glances down, only to remember what just happened due to the sharp pain in his back and the burn of his ass. “Ow, fuck.”

“You, uh, kinda passed out,” San says, grimacing. “I tried to clean everything up, even ran you a bath and everything. You were out _cold_.” As concerned as he sounds, he giggles. “I’m just glad I didn’t kill you.”

Wooyoung exhales deeply, grinning in post-three-orgasmic bliss. “You really did a fucking number on me, you know. I’m probably going to feel this for the rest of my _life_.”

“Glad I made it memorable, at least.”

“Those tentacles are no fucking joke,” Wooyoung says.

Though they’re both dressed, the vivid image of San’s eyes boring into his as he came inside him, that passionate gaze of brown and blue. San had handled him so roughly yet tenderly at the same time, speaking gentle words and questions of consent.

San kisses him, his hand resting on his face. “That was really fun, Wooyoungie,” he says with a dimpled smile. _So fucking cute_ , Wooyoung thinks.

San sighs as he nuzzles into Wooyoung’s chest. “Hey, San,” Wooyoung says, “you know, you’re beautiful too.”

“That’s a funny joke,” San says.

“I mean it,” Wooyoung says. San raises his head, frowning. “You’re _beautiful._ Every single part of you, human and inhuman. Every tentacle, your eyes, your dimples. _You_ are beautiful, Sannie.”

San’s lip is quivering again, much like it used to when he’d been that skinny, frail runaway just trying to find shelter from the rain. And now, there’s a roof over his head, free from needles and test tubes, and somebody who truly cares for him.

“Thank you, Wooyoung,” San says with a single sniffle, a loving smile, and two magnificent, glistening eyes. “Thank you so much.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am EXHAUSTED I DID NOT JUST WRITE THAT
> 
> but fr this was definitely something new for me and i hope i did ok! lemme know what u think :)
> 
> come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)!


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